


Bunny Plugs and Other Assorted Ways To Kill Time

by WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Multi, Slash, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 19:11:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo/pseuds/WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two Weasleys and a Malfoy in a cellar under Diagon Alley after the shops have closed. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes could always use a guinea pig. Sextoys, a schoolboy (of consenting age), anal sex, swearing, masturbation, and voyeurism.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bunny Plugs and Other Assorted Ways To Kill Time

\-----*

"School must be over for the year," Fred commented, looking out through the window of Wheezes to Diagon Alley.

"I suppose it must be soon," George replied from inside a display cabinet where he was restocking the Skiving Snackboxes. "These won't sell so well for a couple of months then."

"Term has definitely ended."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Look."

George sighed and climbed out to join his brother. "Where?"

Fred pointed.

"Bloody Malfoy," George spat.

Sure enough, there was the blond piece of shit, lounging in front of the shops opposite like he was trying to hide the fact that he had nothing to do.

"Should be a busy day then," Fred commented. "Schoolchildren! I love them!"

"Don't say that in front of their parents."

"Only their pocket money, dear George. That's what I love about them."

It was, indeed, a busy day. A large amount of pocket money passed from the purses of schoolchildren into the till of the twins.

George was counting the money – gleefully – as Fred locked up at the end of the day, when Fred said, "He's still there."

"Huh? Twenty seven..."

"Or he's back. Either way. Do you think he's spying on us?"

"Forty three... uh? I'll lose count, Fred. Forty one."

"You were on forty three."

"Balls! See?"

"Malfoy: do you think he's a spy?"

"Do you think we look like branch of Dumbledore's Army?"

"We _are_ a part of the DA."

"The troop of two." George sighed. "I give up, you count."

"Why's he still here?"

"I don't know. Nowhere else to go?"

"I'm going to talk to him."

George sighed again and cast a Disillusionment on the pile of money before following his twin out onto the street.

"Malfoy," Fred growled.

The pointy git turned slowly then sneered. "I thought I could smell something," he drawled. "A double dose of Weasley. You should be in a zoo, you unnatural perversions of nature."

George pulled Fred back by the sleeve. "He's not worth it."

"He's a cunt. Lifetime Quidditch ban!" Fred pulled against George's grip.

"Are you going to hit me again? In front of all these witnesses? Just try it. Brawling like dirty little Muggles again."

Then George let go of Fred and Fred raised his fist and Malfoy made a girly little squeaking noise as he leapt backwards into the nearest doorway.

The twins laughed.

"Ron always said he was a coward," George observed.

"I am not!" The pointy chin was in the air, the hands on the skinny hips.

"Harry told us all about the detention in the Forbidden Forest in your first year," George said with a grin.

"I was a child! And anyway, as it turned out, I was right. The Dark Lord was in the forest that night. Only a reckless fool like Potter would not be concerned in that situation."

"Coward," Fred said quietly.

"I'm not scared of anything."

"Scaredy cat, scaredy cat, what d'you think you're looking at?" George taunted.

"You are so infantile." Malfoy ground his teeth together. "Shut up!"

"Going to make us? Going to go running to Daddy are you? Oh, no, you can't! Daddy's in Azkaban where he belongs, isn't he?" Fred leaned forwards.

"Shut up and leave me alone!"

"What do you think you're you doing out here?" Fred asked.

"It's a public street."

"All day, though?"

"Not all day." Malfoy looked away. "I had lunch at Fortescue's."

"This what you do all summer then, is it?"

"Fred, I'm going back in to finish up. Try not to do anything --"

"Yeah, yeah." Fred's attention returned to Malfoy. "Is this how you spend your school holidays? Are we going to have your ugly mug outside our shop every day? Shouldn't you be flitting about in a social whirl with your house-mates? Or off sunning yourself somewhere expensive? Brighten up that pallid complexion of yours? Or plotting the destruction of civilisation? Or something."

"Civilisation!" Malfoy snorted dismissively. "Like you'd have any idea what that is."

"Stop avoiding the question."

Malfoy shrugged awkwardly. "I haven't had the invitations this year. My popularity has been... ah... temporarily dented by... ah..."

"Oh, because Daddy's in prison?"

Malfoy looked away.

"You're at a loose end then?" Fred asked in a friendly way.

Malfoy looked back warily. He shrugged.

"Hmm," Fred pretended to muse. "Wouldn't suit someone of a nervous disposition, actually. Forget it."

"I'm not," Malfoy said hastily.

"No, it's ok. I want someone a bit brave actually."

“I am brave. How many times do I have to tell you?”

"You busy now? Still killing time?"

"Well, actually..." Malfoy pulled a large, decorative, silver timepiece from his sleeve. "I can't be too late. Mother's a bit anxious these days, with what happened to Father."

"Yeah. Our Mum's kind of jumpy, too, funny enough." Fred's tone was cold now. "Since our Dad got attacked by a giant snake."

Malfoy took a deep breath, then clearly decided not to rise to the bait. "Well then you understand," he said instead. "What were you going to suggest? I can send her an owl."

"Forget it. You're not up to it." Fred turned and started to walk back into the shop, where he could see George hunched over piles of coins.

"If it's so bloody scary then how come you two don't just do whatever it is yourselves?"

Fred stopped. "We have done," he said without turning round. "But we need a new guinea pig for extra tests. We need a third body so we can observe and make notes and adjustments."

"Testing your products?" Malfoy said dismissively, "I hardly think there's a lot of courage needed around children's toys."

"It wasn't the children's products I was thinking of."

\-----*

 

Draco found himself in the cellar of the Weasley twins' ridiculous shop without understanding quite how he had been talked into this. He was surrounded by shelves, but they appeared to be empty. There was a smell of damp, but under that were other smells – something rubbery, something herbal, something leathery.

One of the twins sat on a chair in front of where Draco was standing. He didn't know why he wasn't allowed to sit down, too. That twin had a lot of parchment at his feet, a blank sheet on his lap and a quill in his hand. "Fred!" he yelled. So, he must have been George.

"Hang on a sec'! Don't reveal anything yet," Fred called back.

George smiled at Draco. It wasn't a reassuring smile.

Draco thought about going home.

The other twin appeared in the doorway carrying a tray full of vials.

"Those ones?" George asked. "Really?"

"He reckons he can handle it," Fred replied cryptically.

"You made quite an exit from school," Draco tried by way of conversation.

The freakishly identical brothers grinned at him.

"How's our swamp doing?" one of them asked.

Draco nodded. "It's doing well," he conceded. He wasn't about to let on how impressed Flitwick had been with that stunt.

"This section's owl order only," said the one with the tray. "But any help spreading the news about it round the school would be appreciated. Go on then," he said to his brother. "Do the reveal; I want to watch his face."

The other one lifted his wand and the empty shelves surrounding them displayed their wares. Draco took in a sharp breath. He had been expecting something along these lines but the dazzling array of multicoloured dildoes, vibrators, butt plugs, cock rings, gags and – what the hell where those strappy things anyway? - was awe inspiring.

Fred lowered his tray and bound to the shelves where he lifted a huge device decorated with knobs, lumps and braces.

"Shall we start with this one?" he asked with a devilish twinkle in his eye.

Draco's terror must have been written all over his face, judging by the twins' laughter.

"I think we need to work the bugs out of that one first," George said with feeling.

"I was only joking." Fred put it back and ran his finger along the shelf.

George leaned forward and said conspiratorially, "Most embarrassing trip to St Mungo's of my life."

Cold shuddered along Draco's nerves. What if he ended up injured, or if something got stuck?

"We had a job to stop that mediwitch from owling Mum!" Fred laughed. George scowled at him.

Draco thought of his own mother. "Er, look, I don't know about this actually."

"Scared?" the twins asked in unison.

"N-n-no. I just... Mother's a bit--"

"Scary, actually," the one by the shelves – Fred – interrupted with. "And she'd hex us to kingdom come if we damaged her precious lickle Dwaci-diddums. So relax."

Draco tried to do relaxing. He looked at his feet and inhaled. He looked up to the shelves and couldn't help being intrigued, excited even.

Then a Weasley said, "Get your robe off, then." And Draco tensed right back up.

"We won't be able to _observe_ anything if we can't see it," George explained patiently.

That was, of course, true. Fixing his eyes to the toys and away from the boys, Draco pulled his robes over his head. The resultant silence un-nerved him. He looked at the twins to find them both staring at him with admiring (if predatory) expressions.

"Er, right," the one standing up shook his head as though waking from a reverie. "So where shall we start?"

"Start," the other repeated and picked up his parchment, though he didn't appear to be reading any of the words on it.

\-----*

Malfoy wasn't as skinny as he looked fully dressed, George thought. In fact, his chest and belly were a rather pleasant shape, and covered in a lovely, silky layer of silverish hair. George knew that Fred was going to be looking at the lad's thighs. That was Fred's weakness. George could tell from Fred's flustered silence that they must be good thighs.

George kept his gaze on his list as he said, "And underwear."

Then he peered up under his lashes. The low seat gave him just the right angle to observe the Malfoy cock and balls. Breathtaking. He composed himself by picking up another list from the pile at his feet. He read the first name he saw out loud.

"Bunny Plug five point eight," he said.

"A very good place to begin!" Fred sounded business-like and unaffected. George hoped that he had, too.

Fred passed the butt plug to Draco. He lost the casual delivery, though, as he asked, "Do you want a hand popping that in?"

"It's got a white ball of fluff on it," Malfoy sneered, without answering the question.

"That goes on the outside," Fred said helpfully.

"It's called a bunny plug," George offered.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and reached round behind him.

"Oh! Hang on!" Fred dashed for his tray of vials. He selected a pink liquid (George couldn't remember what that one did), "Use that!"

Malfoy sniffed the contents and recoiled.

"You won't be able to smell it where that's going!" Fred said dismissively.

George made a note to change the scent, though.

Malfoy upturned the vial over the plug and ran the oil over his fingers. He reached behind him and his eyes closed as he worked his fingers into himself. He didn't look like this was his first time.

"Turn round," George suggested.

Malfoy sighed impatiently but did as he had been told.

"Please," George added belatedly.

\-----*

Fred edged away from the wall. He'd had a lovely view until George had spoiled it. Selfish that was. He didn't feel like he could complain, though. Not and still appear professional. This was, after all, a purely commercial exercise.

The boy had great thighs. It shouldn't have been a surprise – he was a Seeker after all – but it was. Fred eased himself towards George to try to get as good a view as his brother of Malfoy fingering himself. Offering to help would have been terribly unprofessional. Unfortunately.

"Ready?" he asked.

Malfoy nodded and slipped in the plug quickly and easily, which was a pity because Fred would have been happy to help out.

"Oooh!"

Fred was glad that he had the profile view now, because it meant that he could see both Malfoy's stretched arsehole with its cottonwool tail and his surprised face as he straightened up. Sharply, his eyes had widened and his mouth was in a lovely little circle shape.

"Oh!" Malfoy added in an even higher pitch. Then he jumped. He swore, then gave another cute little two-footed jump.

George picked up his quill and started furiously scratching notes.

"What the --?" Malfoy started to ask, but was interrupted by his own exclamation and a series of hops around the room.

"That's why it's called a Bunny Plug," Fred said in what he hoped was a helpful way. Actually, who was he kidding? He didn't care whether it was helpful or not. This was amusing to watch. "That and the tail," he added for no good reason.

Malfoy reached behind him and scrabbled desperately with his fingers round his bum.

"Maybe we should have said..." But where would the fun have been in warning him? "That's what the pink lube does."

"Huh?" Malfoy looked to be on the edge. He was still pulling like mad on the fluffy tail as he bounced round the cellar.

"It stops you from taking the plug out."

Along with the arousal and surprise and discomfort, Malfoy managed to include anger in his expression.

"Do you want it removed now?" George asked. Spoilsport.

"Mmmhmmguh," Malfoy choked out.

George raised an eyebrow. "Sorry? What was that?" Better.

Malfoy was sweating and his usually pale face was all red. "Gedditout!" he managed to scream.

George grinned, but then he raised his wand and incanted while Fred walked over and grabbed Malfoy's upper arm. When the spell was done, Fred yanked out the plug.

Malfoy shook him off. "What the fuck was that about?"

"You didn't like it?" Fred asked wearing the innocent expression which his mother had received more often than anyone else. "Note that down, George."

"The plug and the lube both worked," George said.

"Rather a successful combination--" Fred began. Then he noticed that Malfoy was picking up his clothes. "Hey! Hey! We haven't finished!"

"Fucking sadists. Going home."

"No!" Fred yelled.

"Let us make it up to you," George said quickly in a soothing voice. He was too bloody soft.

\-----*

Draco wasn't stupid enough to fall for that. It had been ridiculous, his coming here. He should have known that Weasleys were only going to want to torture him. He didn't know what had possessed him.

"Let him go," said the one who was standing up. "He's too much of a wimp for our products."

Wimp? Draco paused with one arm in his robes. How dare he? Malfoys were never wimps.

"Yeah," agreed the seated one. "It's natural to be scared of sex at his age."

Scared? Of sex? Actually Draco was fairly experienced and enormously adept at sex!

"That's not sex!" he sneered. For some reason he was pulling off his robe again as he said it. "That's just pointless torment. What was that supposed to achieve?"

The twin standing up muttered something about it having been very amusing from where he was standing, but at the same time, in a much louder voice and with a concerned look, the one taking notes asked, "Was it not arousing at all? Not even a little bit?"

"Why would anyone want to be unable to remove it?" Draco asked. He heard the childish whine in his own voice.

"Well, it's..." He blushed and looked at his feet.

His twin said, casually, "Some subs like their Dom to be in complete control." He paused. "Don't they George?"

George just muttered inaudibly and shuffled papers.

"Well I don't!" Draco snapped. "If I was a sub. Which I'm not. You should check that sort of thing out before you go --"

"Of course. George, take notes. Gay or straight, Malfoy?" said the one who wasn't George – Fred then.

"Mind your own business!"

"Put Bi. Top or bottom?"

"I'm not answering that!"

"You don't need to. We just watched you fingerfuck yourself." Fred chuckled to himself.

Draco picked up his robes again. He did not need to put up with this; he couldn't work out why he _was_ putting up with it.

"Try this." George handed him what looked like a piece of rag. "You put it over your, um..." He looked at Draco's cock.

Draco examined the fabric. It was a tube shape – folded over and seamed. He was wary. And confused.

"Just slip it in," George advised gently. "Do you need any help?"

That wasn't what Draco had been confused about. He rolled his eyes. "Why?" he asked.

"It's nice."

Well, this was their last chance. Draco slipped the cloth over his cock. It was smooth.

"You'll have to hold it on to start with. Unless you want me to?" George looked hopeful.

"Fuck off," Draco snapped.

Actually it did feel very nice. His cock started to stir. Then George tapped the cloth with his wand. Draco had a second to register that there was vibration before an intense wave of arousal travelled through his whole body. He opened his eyes to find both twins looking at him with identical smug expressions. He closed his eyes again and lost himself in the sensations.

When he next had a moment's clarity, he found that a twin was offering him a vial. There was something brown in it.

"I can pour this down the sock."

"Eew," Draco responded.

"I told you we should have gone with red," someone said from a long way away, somewhere beyond the erotic caress on Draco's genitals.

"You'll find you can let go of it now."

Draco looked down. Indeed, his prick was sticking straight up and gravity was taking care of keeping the fabric on. He let go. His fingers flew directly to his nipples from habit. He sort of wanted to stop them so the Weasleys wouldn't see, but he didn't have enough control anymore.

"You'll like this liquid. I promise."

"Very happy now," Draco muttered.

"You know how that feels like a hand-job" came the patient explanation.

Hand-job? He'd never had one as good as this. Draco nodded, though.

"Well, this stuff will turn it into more of a blow-job."

Oh, well, in that case... Draco felt himself nodding as he bit his lip and moaned.

He saw the vial being tipped over the open end of the fabric round his cock and vaguely anticipated the sensation of cold. What he felt instead was perfect body heat. So wet. So good. He was losing himself even more. There was some kind of wave running through the liquid, it was like being licked. He could feel his hands shaking against his thighs.

In that case – whose hand was on his nipple now?

"I'm, I'm," he panted.

"You gonna come?"

Draco didn't think he managed to nod before he started to squirt. Shot after shot pushed out of him. Then euphoria drenched him and he came round lying on the floor. Life was wonderful.

"Good?" someone asked.

"Fantastic," Draco replied. His arse didn't even hurt anymore. It did feel stretched and empty though.

\-----*

Malfoy looked wanton, relaxed and highly ravish-able. George wondered whether Fred was as hard as he was, but didn't dare risk a glance to find out. He straightened and swallowed, then distractedly tried to find his place in the notes. It was so difficult to retain objectivity during this kind of product testing.

"Well, that's probably it for today," he said.

"No!" Malfoy's voice was weak but determined. "Wanna fuck now."

George needed to loosen his underwear. Far too tight.

"Give me a minute to recover," Malfoy mumbled.

"No need," said Fred. He leaped over to his tray of vials. He looked cool enough, but George could see his hand shaking. "This one gets you ready to go again immediately."

George gripped the end of the Sexsock between his forefinger and thumb and pulled. Brown gloop swirled with white slopped onto the floor as he yanked. They definitely needed to change the colour of that one. It worked, though. He needed to tick something.

Malfoy grabbed George's wrist. It would have been easy to get away, but he didn't want to. George found himself being pulled onto toned, heated, naked flesh.

"Fuck me," Malfoy begged.

"Ah," George said. "More Fred's department."

Fred handed George a bottle and winked.

George wasn't sure whether Malfoy was even going to go for this. He gripped the little bottle. Then he whispered in Malfoy's ear, "You can fuck me if you like."

"Spent," Malfoy replied breathlessly with a shake of his head.

"No. We'll pop some of this on you and you'll be up and running in no time."

Malfoy snatched the bottle. He uncorked it and poured some into George's hand. George stroked once up Malfoy's shaft and the three of them watched it spring to full erection instantly.

\-----*

This was fantastic. Draco just wanted to stay here for ever. He would never have to go home and face – he was too exhausted to remember what was wrong with going home. He wondered whether there was a little vial which could bump up his stamina. He liked the clouded feeling in his brain though.

"Ok," he murmured. "Too knackered to get up though."

"You just lie there," whispered the twin who was lying on top of him – the one who liked to bottom.

Draco strained his neck round to see the other one as all the lovely, comfy, cuddly warmth left him. "Then you fuck me, right?" he checked.

"Oh, ok." He was trying to sound casual and relaxed – the topping twin – only there was a shake in his voice. Good.

The other one pulled his shirt over his head. He had broad shoulders and ginger fuzz over his muscular chest. Then he shoved off his trousers. His buttocks were tight and pale. Maybe it was the strain of his waiting erection, but Draco felt very turned on by them. Then the twin turned round and Draco saw the wide, black butt plug, and he had to stroke himself.

"So that's where that one went. I thought I'd miscounted the stock."

Draco and the one called George were too wrapped up in each other to take any notice of the voice behind them.

Draco reached forward and ran his hand over the skin on the way, and then took hold of the plug. It slid out easily. Then George turned round. Hazel eyes pinned Draco's and a gentle push on his shoulder got him lying back down flat to the floor. Someone put a vial in Draco's hand, but Draco was concentrating too hard to think about who that might be. He just got some of the contents on his hand and then onto his cock, before handing it over to his partner who was kneeling in front of him.

There was a warm, spicy scent to the air but Draco wasn't taking much notice of that. There was a tingle in his cock. Then the tingle passed through the rest of his body and he felt energised. He heard himself growl. Some small part of his mind started to question what was going on. Then the substantial body on its knees in front of him moved over his thighs to his crotch and positioned itself, then lowered itself.

That was the end of thought for a while. There was only feeling – the heat and rhythm, his up-thrusting hips and that delicious tingle all over his body.

\-----*

Fred watched George riding Malfoy. It was amazing – the way he moved so gracefully up and down on his knees, the contrasts of the slight body under the stocky one, the rough skin over the smooth. Their faces were so rapt. The glow and the sheen of their skin lit up the cellar.

He couldn't tell whether the Enhancement Lube was doing its job or whether they were just both really into this.

He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his dragonskin trousers. As he released his cock he wondered about which lube he should use when he fucked Malfoy. He really, really wanted to fuck the lad now. He would have to wait his turn, though. He stripped and he watched and he wondered.

\-----*

George felt full. He lifted himself up and down as fast and as rough as he could manage. He was so hot. It was so good. The angle was just right, the heat, the tingle, the push. The tension built and rose and clenched: and then released in wave after wave. He watched his spunk splashing onto Malfoy's belly and chest and chin. Then Malfoy's sharp nails were digging into his hips and the lad's pointy face was contorting, and there was a pulsing inside George.

George lay down. They lay together, George still on top of Malfoy. The glow faded enough for their positions to be uncomfortable, so George pulled himself away and lay flat out. He felt cooling come start to drip out of him.

Gradually rationality returned and an idea invaded his consciousness. It took a while longer for his mouth to form the words.

"Enhancement Lube?"

"Yeah," Fred said. "Is it good?"

"Mmmhmm," George replied, though he couldn't tell how much of the pleasure had been down to just their two bodies moving together.

"Ready Malfoy?" Fred asked. He sounded impatient.

"Not yet," Malfoy replied sleepily.

"Come on, we've got to get you home before your Mummy starts worrying, and I haven't had my fuck yet."

George rolled away to give them space, but he didn't actually have the energy to sit up or get dressed.

\-----*

His words were heartless, but Fred's touch was gentle as he fed Draco some potion from a spoon. Then he rubbed that brilliant oil over his cock and it sprang back to life, just as warmth and wakefulness spread through Draco's body. Then Fred rolled Draco onto his belly. He felt a finger slip into his hole, which was still stretched from the butt plug earlier. Draco didn't want to think about that thing.

There was a minty scent which cut through the spicy one and the aroused, sweaty come smells. Then there was a soothing slip of moistness inside Draco's hole. He saw a clear vision of a field beside a lake, and of sunshine. "Tuscany," he found himself muttering.

There were more fingers in him, gently opening him up further, then the twin behind him said, "Lyme Regis," very clearly. It was odd, but not off-puttingly so. Neither of them said anything else.

Draco could feel the sunshine on his bare skin and see the reflection of it on the blue water. He could see and feel the cellar floor, too, but it didn't feel important.

The softer, blunter sensation of cock was at his entrance and then it entered; Draco pushed back and lifted his hips to meet it as he usually did. There was no burn this time. They moved immediately into rhythm. A light breeze ruffled the grass in Draco's head.

\-----*

Fred could feel gritty sand under his palms and knees; he could feel Malfoy's body sucking him in and holding him and the friction and moisture; he could feel the red arousal taking him over.

The sea and the cliffs skittered past his inner eye. He looked down on the shoulder blades under him. They adjusted under pale skin, light flushes of colour appearing around them.

He slipped his hand over Malfoy's hot, moving skin and round his body to hold the lad's dangling balls. There was moaning and a crying out in what sounded like Italian. It didn't make much sense, but that didn't matter.

He wanted this to last longer, but knew that wasn't an option, so he gripped Malfoy's prick and jerked it enough times for the panting, shouting, contorting of orgasm, then Fred let himself go and he came too.

He actually blacked out for a bit. Fred had heard of that happening, but had never managed that himself before. When he returned to the world, George was laying a blanket over him. Fred watched, unable to move, as George helped Malfoy to dress.

"What's that one called?" Malfoy asked. "That lube. The one with Tuscany in it?"

"Hasn't got a name yet," George replied. Then he asked Fred, "Where did you go?"

Lyme Regis sounded too provincial compared to Malfoy's Italian fantasy. Fred was about to say "Monaco" when he remembered that he'd said the name of the place out loud. George was smirking, he could tell that now that his wits were returning. "Beach", he muttered.

"You be alright getting home?" George asked Malfoy.

"Yeah," Malfoy said. He was fully dressed now. "Erm, can I...? Is it...? I mean, you've got lots more products and it's a ridiculously long school holiday..."

"You know where we are," Fred said.

Malfoy grinned. "I'll be back then."

Fred was too tired to move. He just watched from the floor as George escorted Malfoy off the premises.

 

\-----*  
The End  
\-----*

**Author's Note:**

>  **Disclaimer:** The characters and settings were created by JK Rowling. They belong to her. I make no profit. Not even the twins are making any money out of this and they can usually make cash out of most situations. Like me, they are doing this purely for the love of it.  
>  **Author’s Notes:** Many thanks to emansil 12 for being a brilliant beta and a lovely person. Written for the 2011 LJ interhouse fest.


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